


guns and roses

by amuk



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: Winry’s hands were meant for healing. She wondered if, once upon a time, Scar’s were too.





	guns and roses

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I’m in pieces, somewhere you’re in pieces too
> 
> Written for the FMAB zine. I got assigned to the East (but not including Xing), so I picked Ishval. I love Mei and Scar’s relationship, I wish I had put more for it.

 

“This seat taken, miss?”

 

“Huh?” Winry looked back to see a Xingese man poke his head into her berth. Despite how new the railroad connection was, the train was already packed. People from both Xing and Amestris were eager to see a brand new world. From behind him, Winry could hear the squawking of chickens and the quiet chatter of strangers. Pulling her tool kit closer to her, she shook her head with a smile. “Nah, it’s free.”

 

“That’s a relief. I was afraid I’d have to stand the whole way.” He shut the door behind him, cutting off the noise. Smoothly, he sat down across from her, his bright yellow jacket catching her eye. The pattern on it was similar to the one she saw on Ling, smoky trails curling around the edges of his coat. Maybe they belong to the same clan? Her knowledge of their customs was limited at best, bits and pieces taken from both Mei and Ling.

 

“It’s really crowded,” she agreed before turning back to the window. As the train hurtled down the tracks, she watched as the desert scenery slowly change and transform. Sand dunes to hard rock to tiny oases, there was more to the desert than she had expected. More and yet less—despite Roy’s efforts to rebuild Ishval, there was still a long way to go. The villages she had seen were few and far between, most in some state of construction.

 

“Business in Xing?” her companion asked casually. He stretched his arms behind his head and leisurely reclined back. Eyeing her bag, he added, “Perhaps to set up a new shop?”

 

“Nothing that grand,” she laughed, opening it up to reveal a wrench. “Just checking a client.”

 

“Wow, you have clients in Xing?” The man leaned forward, peering into her bag. “Business must be good for you.”

 

“Oh no, no, no. Not in Xing.” Winry shook her hands in front of her. Despite her light-hearted tone, the next words were hard to say. Her lips formed the words but her throat refused to vocalise them.

 

 _Ishval_ , she mouthed and her throat dried.  She could feel cool metal on her hands, her fingers on a trigger. She remembered cold hands and closed eyes and maybe she was wrong. She wasn’t ready to come here in the least.

 

Despite her feelings, the train kept running down the track. There was no turning back now.

 

-x-

 

The scent of sawdust and a dull heat hit her the second she stepped off the train. The whole station looked brand new, varnished wood glowing in the sunlight. Turning around, she waved goodbye to her new friend before she continued on into the station. The heat didn’t disperse once inside; if anything, it felt stuffier inside. Winry fanned herself with her free hand—never had she been gladder for her outfit than she was now.

 

How did anyone live here? It had been barely five minutes since she’d arrived and already her skin felt sticky, her sweat clinging to her like a second skin.

 

“Winry!”

 

Hearing her name, she scanned the station. Al’s voice still felt unusual, even though she had over two years to get used to it. She was still waiting for the metallic ring, the hollow echo that always accompanied. Hell, she was still looking for a giant suit of armour instead of a much smaller man. Once she spotted him, she practically ran up to him and enveloped him in a hug. “Al!”

 

“Winry!” Al laughed, hugging her back. His grip was strong and she was glad to see he was doing well. “I missed you.”

 

“Me too.” Pulling back, she scrutinized his face. Yep, he definitely looked fine. Whatever he was doing here and at Xing wasn’t harming him in the least. “How’s Mei?”

 

“She’s here.” Al let go of her and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s funny travelling with someone other than brother.”

 

“Oh?” Winry resisted the urge to smirk—the telltale awkwardness told her everything. It had to be an Elric thing—Ed looked exactly the same when he was embarrassed. Even Hohenheim had the same signs, according to Pinako. Averting his eyes, a light blush on his cheeks, the waver in his voice; it seemed Mei’s one-sided crush was no longer one-sided.

 

It would be terribly fun to tease him. Not that she would. That was an Ed thing and she hadn’t yet stooped that low.

 

“I’m sure it’s a lot more fun to travel with someone reasonable and not as short tempered.” Winry was certain that a certain alchemist was sneezing somewhere right about now. “Though she does have the short part.”

 

“Well, the temper part might not be too different either,” Al laughed as he turned toward the station doors.

 

“I bet she’s a lot cuter too.” To be fair, she had been spending a little too much time with Ed lately and she really couldn’t let this chance slip away. Especially when Al immediately flushed a dark red, stuttering and shaking his head so quickly she thought it’d snap off.

 

“Winry!” Al pleaded as she passed him. His hands flew into a million motions as he tried to come up with an excuse. “It’s-it’s…”

 

He couldn’t even deny it. Winry fought down her growing grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Ed.”

 

Flustered Al trailed after and quietly mumbled, “Thank you.”

 

They stepped outside and a warm breeze hit Winry. She took a deep breath. Dry. The air was dry. As was the hard ground beneath her feet, cracked and weathered over time. Stray rocks and pebbles littered the roads and she half wondered if the reason the sand was so packed was due to the thousands of footsteps on it. The sun blazed down on them as Al led her down a street and Winry fanned herself again.

 

She’d survived Briggs. She could survive this too.

 

A drop of sweat slid down her back and she shivered. She could probably survive this. The houses on this street were mostly built and she quickly slinked into their shadows as they passed. Looking up, the houses on the street were similar to the ones in central, both in design and in material. It was unexpectedly familiar. Following her line of sight, Al smiled. “I was expecting something else when I came here too.”

 

“Yeah.” Winry rubbed her arm. “I was really expecting something strange. Is Xing also like this?”

 

“Nope! They have these rectangle roofs that are also curved and.” Al’s hands cut through the air, trying to form the shape for her. After a few minutes, he sighed and gave up. “You should just see it for yourself. Maybe when you’re done, I can take you.”

 

Winry considered it, tossing the idea around for a moment. It would extend her trip but Xing was really close to here. And even better, they might have new automail technology there. They could even know better techniques to deal with extreme heat. Maybe she could learn about new alloys. There had to be some, their resources were different. Glowing at the prospect, she tried to contain her excitement as she replied. “Definitely.”

 

It didn’t work. There must have been sparkles in her eyes because Al gave her a flat look. “Same old Winry.” He laughed then and slowed his pace. Gesturing at the window next to him, he pointed at the windows. “Apparently the army regulated how they made their buildings for centuries, so Ishavalians have lost most of their old style and techniques. But a little survived, like those windows.”

 

She stared at it. Now that he mentioned it, she noticed the arched curves on them, the latticed woodwork on certain sections. In some places, roses and other flowers were carved in as decorations. “Oh wow, that’s pretty.”

 

“Mei said the same thing too.” He now pointed to their right, to a road that intersected with theirs. “I’ll take you to market when you’re done, you’ll really like how that’s set up.”

 

It was tempting. Very tempting but she had to make certain of one important fact. “Is there shade?”

 

-x-

 

Winry loved the smell of oil. The sticky sensation that stayed on her hands long after she had washed them clean. Ed had once joked how it was almost a drug to her but he hadn’t been too far off. Her fingers slid across the scratched metal of her client’s arm as she made minuet fixes. The sound of metal, the motion of cranking her wrench, the entire process of a tune up was relaxing.

 

Which was good. She needed the calm. With Al gone and no one to talk to, her mind started to wander. To drift. To turn to the desert and its sandy dunes that hid more than it showed. She’d heard that bodies were sometimes never found in there, especially after a sandstorm, but that hadn’t been the case with her parents.

 

No, they had returned in a casket and now she was where they’d died. At least, she was probably somewhere near it. The Ishvalan conflict was a large one, encompassing the whole area, and while she knew how they died, she’d never found out where. It could be on this spot, rebuilt from the ground. It could be out in the wilds, broken ruins and dried blood still waiting to be found.

 

She didn’t like either option, didn’t like any of it. It unnerved her more than she’d expected.

 

Winry ran her fingers along the cool metal, trying to still her beating heart.

 

-x-

 

It seemed Al had lied to her. There weren’t one or two or even three clients. No, there was now a list full of them and her short day trip looked like it’d last a couple at least. Not that she’d complain, it kept her mind busy. Still, she was tired and she looked forward to a cool bed. The last client was out the door, her tools were packed, and there was little keeping her here.

 

The second she stepped out of her temporary headquarters, a small body collided with hers. No, it was not merely a collision. It was more like a cannon barreling into her. Immediately after, arms wrapped around her, constricting her movements. Winry’s hand snaked down into her bag as she stumbled. The air was knocked out of her with an _oof_ and she tried to straighten up and regain her balance.

 

“Winry!” Mei sang excitedly. “It’s been so long!”

 

With a sigh, she let go of the wrench she was grabbing. Her footing was uneven as it was; she didn’t need Mei’s happy dance to topple them over.  “Mei! You scared me.”

 

“How?” Mei cocked her head curiously as she let go.

 

Despite Mei’s newfound height, it seemed some things never changed.  Winry let it go, it wasn’t worth the effort. “How’ve you been?”

 

“Great! I’ve been training with Alphonse.” Mei almost melted into a puddle. Her hands cupped her cheeks, her eyes lit happily. She started to skip down the road. “He’s learning really quickly.”

 

It didn’t surprise her in the least. Both Elric brothers had figured out how to create a hommucli when they were children, after all. Winry quickly followed after her. Immediately, she regretted everything. Mei was some sort of madman, walking more in the sun than not, and Winry was sweltering within seconds. “That’s good. Where are we going?”

 

“To Alphonse!” She grinned as she turned around, her arms clasped behind her back. Now she was skipping backwards. Absolutely a madman. “He’s making dinner tonight.”

 

 “Dinner?” That made her pause, the statement running through her head over and over. For some reason, all she could imagine was a suit of armour in an apron, even though she hadn’t seen it in two years. “He can cook now?”

 

“I’ve been teaching him.” Mei flushed lightly. She grabbed her wrists delicately, for once looking embarrassed. Her pace slowed to a casual stroll. “He’s really good. Better than me.”

 

Winry stared at her before patting her shoulder. “Trust me, he loves your cooking.”

 

“Really?” Mei beamed and maybe Winry shouldn’t have encouraged her because all of a sudden she was back to skipping.  “I’ll show you the city.”

 

She made all of three steps before Mei spotted an Ishvalan and zoomed toward them. Winry laughed and followed after. If there was one thing you couldn’t call Mei, it was predictable. She was asking something, her hands making circler motions.

 

The Ishvalan shook his head, his mullet bobbing with the motion. The wrong move. Winry didn’t even need to hear what they were discussing to know that. If anything, it made Mei even more insistent and she’d latched onto his arm.  By the time Winry was close, the matter was settled with a gruff, “Fine, I’ll go.”

 

There really was no arguing with Mei.

 

“What’s—” Winry froze as the man turned around. Despite how everything else about him had changed, the one thing time couldn’t erase was the scar on his face. There was a pounding in her ears. She swallowed thickly. “Scar?”

 

His eyes widened before he gently shook off Mei. Patting her on the head, he tipped his head to the pair. “I have to attend something.”

 

“Huh?” Mei looked quizzically between them before slapping her forehead. “I’m sorry, Winry. I forgot.”

 

That confirmed it. Scar had survived that final battle, despite the reports.

 

-x-

 

“He’s been helping with reconstruction,” Al explained, biting his lip as he looked at her concerned. They were sitting in the apartment he’d rented, crowding around a small table. Even Mei Mei was taking part, sitting on the table and eating a bamboo stick as they talked.

 

It had been a long time since they’d had or needed a debriefing. Faintly, it reminded her of their travels for the philosopher’s stone. “How’d he survive?”

 

Al paled and looked away. “Major General Armstrong.”

 

His voice was quiet, as though she could hear him from Briggs. Winry shivered, remembering the fierce, icy woman. She hadn’t spent much time with the Major General but even that was enough. She was her fort personified. If Al said it was because of her, then that was it. There was really no need for an explanation beyond that. “She sent him here?”

 

“He had to come. If he didn’t want to…” Al shivered. “Who could tell her no?”

 

“Impossible,” Winry agreed.

 

“I don’t think she’s that bad.” Mei looked between the pair bemused. “I’m sure she’s nice.”

 

Al stared at her, then at the door as though Olivier Armstrong would barrel in at those words. “You never even met her!”

 

“So? I’ll meet her the next time she inspects, then.”

 

Even Mei Mei, who’d just been eating till now, shook his head vigorously. Winry gripped her friend’s shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “Some things are better left unknown.”

 

Mei nodded slowly, not quite comprehending. “Okay.”

 

“Anyways, Scar’s been helping rebuild Ishval.” Al’s hands tapped the table softly. “He doesn’t even seem like the same man sometimes.”

 

“He’s always been nice,” Mei protested, puffing her cheeks in a pout. Turning to Winry, she clasped her hands. “Even before, he helped me a lot. I know…” She fell silent for a moment, carefully mulling her words. “I know you can’t forgive him. You don’t have to but please don’t hate him.”

 

Her voice was soft. It was so un-Mei –like it caught her off guard and Winry couldn’t respond. “Hate?” Winry looked down at their joined hands, at the lines it made. Lives crisscrossed and knitted together just as tightly as their fingers did now. Even a girl from Resembool  and a man broken in a civil war could be connected in unexpected ways. “I don’t…”

 

 _Your hands are for healing_ , Ed had told her once. It took her weeks to understand that, to see her smiling customers and realize just how close she was to losing it all. Had Scar felt the same way? If she didn’t have Ed, if she’d lost it all, could she have gone down that path? She wanted to say no but she knew better. Everyone was a lot closer to that edge, whether they admitted it or not.

 

“I don’t hate him.” Winry gave a tepid smile. Just as her hands were not made for killing, her heart was not made for hating.

 

But hatred and liking and even forgiveness were all very different things.

 

-x-

 

Winry shivered, hugging herself as she walked the dimly lit street to her hotel. The day had been so hot, how could the night be so damn cold? It was a desert! Rubbing her arms, she looked up to see the stars, a million pinpricks in a black cloth. At least the view here was great. Apparently the sunrise and sunset were beautiful at the outskirts of the city, painting the desert sand soft reds and oranges.

 

Maybe she’d try to catch it tomorrow.

 

 A soft mewing sound caught her attention. To her left, just outside the pool of light, a man crouched down to feed a dozen stray cats. Their bodies weaved and pushed one another aside as they tried to get to his hands. One head butted his leg and Winry softly giggled. It seemed Al wasn’t the only one who loved cats. He had competition. The man turned his head slightly, his profile coming into view, and it was Scar.

 

Her breath hitched at the sight. Scar. There was something akin to a gentle smile on his face, the expression too soft for her to be certain. So even he could look like that.

 

So even he could be kind. Despite Mei’s words, she hadn’t quite believed them. Noticing her, Scar stiffened and turned away. So even he could feel awkward.

 

It was funny, but despite it all, Winry had never considered him human before this. He had to be, of course he had to be. She’d even heard and understood what he’d been through. There had been no peace in understanding, no joy in learning, just cold facts that did little to explain why her parents never opened their eyes again.

 

Despite all of that reading, none of those facts sunk in as deeply as his hunched over back, his stiff posture. Guilt was a complicated thing and she wondered if his feelings had changed at all since she’d faced him off with that gun. For a weapon that could do so much damage, it had been surprisingly light. Even the trigger had been easy to pull, the soft click a feature in some of her nightmares.

 

Winry almost passed him. Reconsidering it, she approached him instead. “You’re helping this town?”

 

Still tense, he continued to dole out food to the cats. For a long moment, she thought he was going to ignore her. Slowly, he answered, “Not just the town. My people…most of our knowledge was lost. I still have a little.”

 

“Because you were a priest?” A holy man bent on revenge. Even without knowing anything about his culture, she was certain that was a strange to his people as well. In another life, perhaps his hands wouldn’t have been for killing either.

 

“Yes.” He stroked a cat’s head. Al definitely would be jealous. “I can read what others cannot.”

 

So even he had moved on. Time really did change everything. Softly, she muttered, “So you’re not just destruction then.”

 

At this, he looked up at her and she covered her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. Scar studied her for a moment then at his arms. They were covered by long sleeves but he pushed them up to reveal tattoos on both arms. “Destruction and construction. I never understood it before. I might not understand it now.” He let go and the cloth fell back down, hiding his marks. “I want to try.”

 

That was a sentiment Winry could understand. Crouching next to him, she petted a cat. She could feel his eyes on her, warily waiting for her next move.

 

She wasn’t quite sure what that’d be. They were sitting in the desert, feeding cats, and it was funny how something she always thought of as dead could have so much life. The desert could do more than just take, it seemed. Maybe one day she could look at it and not feel afraid. Maybe one day she could see Scar and forget the weight of a gun.

 

There was no forgiveness just as there was no hate. Some crimes went beyond either. But there was a boundary between the two, a fine line that fit her just right, and she wanted to find that. She wanted to try too.

 

So, to start with, she focused on this one man, on this one question. Winry looked at him. “Your name isn’t actually Scar, is it?”

 


End file.
